Gender Flop
by CityOwl3
Summary: After waking up to see his manly tracts of land have become not-so-manly, America wants to change back into a dude. Still, this clichéd spell won't be broken without true love's kiss. Guess whose fault that is? Our favorite Englishman's of course. With the help of their friends, will America be able to return to normal, or will he be a girl forever? Various/America, eventual UKUS


Light spilled through the windows, adding a new shade of life to the simply colored walls of Canada's kitchen. From the sounds of birdsong outside and the comforting hiss of batter on a skillet, the morning's atmosphere radiated nothing but regularity. The sweet smell of the pancakes should've assured him of that, but he found that he couldn't shake the odd feeling that something was amiss.

Gazing over his shoulder, Canada found that his polar bear was sitting in his usual spot. He left the griddle to check the pantry for his syrup and sighed in relief to see the carefully made stockpile was still intact. After returning to flip the pancakes over and off to replace them with fresh batter, there seemed to be nothing that justified the feeling he had. There wasn't a world meeting or anything of the sort because it was Saturday, and he had purposely freed the day to recuperate before work the following week. The Canadian glanced at the calendar again for what seemed the millionth time that morning.

"Something wrong?" the bear asked after noting his companion's strange behavior. Canada only sighed, and shook his head. He almost wished there was, so he could say he wasn't crazy. Still, the bear seemed satisfied with the reply, and grew quiet as he waited for his meal.

Canada second guessed himself again. "Ah...W-were there any papers I had to finish today?"

The bear glanced to the ceiling before answering, "Not that I remember."

"Well in that case I think I'll go give-"

He was interrupted by the gentle tones of the doorbell. And after he failed to answer instantaneously, they were followed by a not-so-gentle pounding on his door, which only ceased after the door was opened for the loud visitor.

Canada was expecting someone else, someone that matched the rough knocks. He'd assumed it was going to be Prussia or something, but found himself face to face with a young lady. She looked barely over sixteen, and wore baggy clothes over her petite figure, large spectacles sliding down the bridge of her nose. Canada found her rather cute, but she still remained unfamiliar.

"Hello, how may I help you?" The Canadian greeted as warmly as he could muster for the uninvited guest, "I have a feeling you may have the wrong address-"

"Cut the crap Mattie," she replied loudly, voice shrill, and clearly American by the accent, "It's me, America! You've gotta help me!"

Canada's mouth formed an 'o' shape. "Oh. So _that's_ what that was."

"What was what?" the American girl questioned harshly.

"N-nothing. Come in."

* * *

"Dude. This isn't funny, quit your friggen' laughing."

After explaining his-or rather _her_-situation, Matthew had invited his unruly sibling for breakfast. Not that there was much to explain. America was pretty clueless as to what was going on as he was. Apparently he'd woken up, and realized that he had become a _she_. Canada could only imagine the scream that had accompanied the discovery, and found the idea rather hilarious.

"Oh c'mon Al," Canada joked, trying to contain the giggle fit within, "I'm sure that deep down you like it."

"Nu-uh," America whined, "I'm having a complete identity crisis right now!"

"Oh, iden_tity_ crisis is-Okay sorry." He abandoned his idea mid-sentence before icy daggers decided to shoot out from the young girl's eyes.

As he joined America at the table, Canada placed a stack of pancakes from the most recent batch in front of his twin, alongside a bottle of syrup. He knew America all too well, and if dirty puns weren't enough to raise the American's spirit, then food was the next best thing. He felt sorry for his sibling, but not sorry enough to give her the perfect batch from earlier. After answering the door and leaving the batter circles there for longer than recommended, they became too overcooked for the Canadian's liking. Canada was pretty sure that that burnt edges of the pancakes he'd given America would go unnoticed anyway, and in a small way, it was payback.

As she began to dig into her meal, Matthew found that there was a striking resemblance between the girl in front of him and his brother. It seemed as though Alfred's honey-blonde hair had kept its hue in this new form, albeit being around shoulder length. And while framed by longer lashes, the bright blues of American skies were reflected in her eyes. He mentally kicked himself for not recognizing the American right away, though it all seemed to click after she began to chow down on the meal with a speed only Alfred could match.

The Canadian tried to offer support. "I'm sure waking up a different gender is a little weird."

"A little!?" she said after a large gulp, "More like a lot! I mean seriously, what the fuck?"

"You sure you didn't go and get surgery in your sleep?"

America paused mid-bite to shoot him a look. "Pretty fucking sure bro."

"Then what do you think could've happened?"

The pair quietly pondered the question, Canada finally taking a bite out of his own breakfast as America continued to plow through her own. Surely there must've been some sort of explanation for this crazy situation. After all, people didn't just wake up as a different gender. It wasn't possible, was it?

America suddenly threw down her fork and slammed her fists down on the table, rattling the Canadian. He gave her a puzzled look, until the epiphany struck him as well.

"ENGLAND!" she shouted, and Canada nodded in agreement.

"You're probably right. If I remember, he dabbled in creepy occult stuff, didn't he...?"

"Who cares," said America, "All I know is that that pervert ambassador is so gunna get it!"

"_England_ the pervert ambassador? Sorry America, but nobody is as bad as France, I would know." The girl gaped at him momentarily, wide blue eyes full of shock.

"Are you kidding me? Haven't you seen Arthur reading porn during the meetings?"

"No," Said Matthew, "Because he doesn't do that."

"Yeah he does!" She shouted in exasperation, "How could you not have seen that! ?"

Matthew just sighed, and speared another piece of his breakfast. "America, I honestly have no idea what you're talking about."

Her plush lips formed an angry pout, and she folded her arms. "Screw you dude. Screw you!"

"Hey, people barely notice me," Canada rolled his eyes, "Even you forget me sometimes, so don't go using that-"

"Says the guy who can't even remember his pets' names." She threw in.

"What? Of course I know his name, I'm his owner."

"C'mon bro. Tell me the name." she said, pointing to the bear. As attention was drawn on him, the bear lifted his head from the bowl it was eating from, muzzle streaked with maple syrup and unwavering black eyes staring Canada down.

"Ah, okay then...It's...Uh, it's..." America smirked as Canada struggled to grasp a name.

"I will buy you a life supply amazing pancakes with amazingly amazing syrup if you can tell me his name!"

Matthew glared, "Be quiet you hoser, I'm thinking...K-Kuma-"

"Why do you even have to think about it?"

"Kuma...Kumajama!" He exclaimed, hoping his uncertainty would be masked by his volume.

He flinched as the girl let out a booming laugh, reminding Matthew once again that this was still his brother. "Ahaha! You're wrong! You owe me a gender switch!" She shouted happily, jumping up from her seat, and making her way to the door.

"N-no! You're lying!" Matthew desperately tried to reconcile himself, switching his apologetic glances between America and the bear, which seemed to have dismissed his master by returning to his food.

The girl hopped over to the door, and snatched a set of keys off of the hook. "It's Kumajiro. Now let's go! The nearest airport is, like, hours from here!"

"How would you know that! ?" Matthew said, his cheeks flushed in frustration.

"...Does Kumajiro really not ring any bells?" she asked.

Canada flushed and said in a whisper, "Ah...n-not really."

"I just know because we've known each other forever, and that bear too," she jerked a gloved thumb towards the feasting animal, "So I know its name. I also know how often you forget it!" She grinned cheekily, exposing a row of pearly whites.

"...Bitch."

"Exactly," she must not have noticed the insult, because her smile grew even bigger, to Canada's chagrin, "We have to make England give me my dick back!"

Matthew flinched at the vulgar phrasing, but stood from the table to join his brother, or rather, _sister_. "Why does that sound so gross coming out of your mouth?"

The girl shrugged, failing to notice her bomber jacket, which now seemed about four times too large for her, began to shrug off as well. "I dunno dude. I say stuff like that all the time."

Matthew wondered why that was as well. Still, after re-examining the American girl, he concluded that she was far too innocent looking. Her frame was petite, but he could see that under her oversized clothes, she was well endowed and had many curves. She looked, though Canada hated to admit it, pretty damn adorable in the oversized clothes, since they made her seem so small and fragile. Overall though, he blamed the face. With a cute pair of lips and blue eyes as wide as a doe's, her face radiated purity.

Not that he would ever admit that. "I think it's because you're a girl."

America glared at him again, but then she opened her mouth to shout.

_"BITCH, ASS, FUCK, SHIT, PU-"_

Matthew found himself stumbling over chairs and crashing into the table so he could slap a hand over America's mouth. Part of it was because he was disturbed, and the other because the neighbors we going to have his neck if she continued screaming.

"Quit it Al!" He glared at her until she rolled her eyes in what seemed like surrender. Only then did he lift his palm from her mouth. "England's going to be furious when he sees all the profanity you spew."

America turned towards the door, and grasped the handle. "Yeah, well, whatever. It's not anything out of the norm anyway. So he's just gunna have to deal with it, it's all his fault this happened anyway." She opened the door, and sprinted to Matthew's car. "Let's go!"

"Fine."

"Yay~!" America said, and she hopped into the car, "Shotgun!"

After Canada joined her in his car, a thought stuck him. "But we're only going to the airport. No McDonald's-"

"You prick!" The cheery expression on her face was quickly replaced by a pout.

The Canadian chuckled smugly, a smirk on his lips as her started the ignition.

"Hey, at least I've got one."

* * *

**AN:**

Hello all! Thanks for getting this far, hope you enjoyed it! And no worries, England will arrive next chapter, which I've almost finished writing already. Reviews are also greatly appreciated! They make me work faster.

If you can't tell at this point, this story is mostly rated M because of suggestive themes and language. While I'm not planning on any lemons, expect a LOT of ship tease for Various/America, and many side pairings as well. I'm going to try and include as many countires as possible for this!


End file.
